


As You Wish

by PandorasWritingDesk



Category: Princess Bride (1987), The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: But i made it real different, Every character is a parallel to someone in the film, F/M, Inspired by Princess Bride, Lots of refs little context, M/M, Pat's a witch now, cause i can
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandorasWritingDesk/pseuds/PandorasWritingDesk
Summary: Patroclus and Achilles have been side by side ever since they were left to fend for themselves, and although some bonds can be as devote as theirs, there isn't a more passionate romance in all the world. But, all true romance faces hurdles, theirs being Patroclus' sudden and painful death. When Achilles is forced to marry after swearing off love in grief, will he break under the falsity of his arranged marriage or escape with what he once dreaded the most.





	1. The Farm Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping you all know the story cause even though I have all the story beats, I'm mixing and moving some stuff. I'm sure this has already been done in this fandom, but I've had this in docs, waiting and I want see what you think.

Achilles was born and raised in a small cottage hidden away in the countryside of Troy. His parents were captured when he was young enough to forget their names and faces leaving him with their home, their money and a boy.The boy had been abandoned by his own parents in Achilles’ home country of Grece. The baby’s parents feared his safety and gave him as payment to Achilles’ mother, the renowned witch Thetis, for both their protection and his. This boy grew under Thetis’ tutorage into a Mage himself but, when she was taken he hid himself under the guise of the younger boy’s servant, a child unknowingly housing the witch and her husband. Achilles was still lost without his parents though and leaned on the intelligent boy his mother had raised before him.

He was named Patroclus, for his father always saw hope in his future across the sea. Achilles learned from him easier than his quick mother and overly optimistic father. They practiced everything from math to magics under the quiet cottage roof, the older Patroclus forming a schedule and regimen for them both. But Achilles grew quickly, with a heart burdened by loss and soon Patroclus found he was more invested in studying strategy and battle than sciences. He spent hours hacking away at dummies and trees, strength emanating from miles away. He fought and rode more than wrote or read.

Patroclus did chores and cooked while his friend collapsed into his chair, tired and worn from exerting himself. He had problems seeing Patroclus as much else but a servant given how distant he'd become. He felt lost and thus pushed him out as background for most of his life. On the contrary, the servant boy grew more enthralled with the blond warrior as they grew. He wrote verses dedicated to his flowing beauty and strife as he watched from afar. The only thing he then shared with Achilles, however, was his love of horses. 

Every morning, the golden boy would ride out into the field and see his servant sitting under a tree with his own black mare beside him. Patroclus would read in the early morning sun and smile up at his friend. Achilles would give him orders sometimes when he noticed Patroclus.

“Wash Pelones when you come in.”  
The darker boy nodded, closing his book. “As you wish.”  
“And feed Coran, he’ll wake up soon.”  
“As you wish.”

Achilles would pick up on the stares from the stables or kitchen some days. He never acknowledged the affection, finding it frightening and foreign at the best of times. He watched as Patroclus wrote page after page when Achilles laid in bed across the hall from his bright office. When they were still young he wrote a glorious story about a woman who reaped men like fresh grain. A woman he could easily see his mother mirroring. Yet, Patroclus said he wrote it in anger. Every phrase read of frustration as she slaughtered militias, all in the name of a golden godling. He asked once if the god existed. Patroclus wouldn't admit where he’d read it, only that he existed before they were born. Achilles sighed as he saw the boy pour over his writing.

Patroclus would never see himself as the beauty he was. The exoticness of his dark chocolate curls and freckled, olive skin was more glorious than the sun itself. It had taken Achilles a couple years as of recent to realize he loved the boy. He’d always seen him as a brother but at this point it was more than clear what he felt towards the genius boy he’d lived with for all of his life. Patroclus was glorious in his eyes, and with all of his looking into the outside world through books and his rides in town, he knew that he was generally attractive. But, no one surpassed the farm boy’s looks in his eyes. Pat slumped over his books as he scribbled. Achilles wanted to hold him tight, to read over his shoulder and kiss down his neck. He sat up, yawning to catch the boy’s startled face.

“Patroclus, would you please come to bed?”  
The boy froze, turning to stare right into the tired green eyes. His face screamed confusion but still held a sliver of excitement. “To bed?”  
The blonde let out a hum. “Yes. Dawn will come in no time, and you’ve been doing this for nearly two weeks straight. It’s fine, come to bed.”  
Pat swallowed, standing carefully on his weak legs before falling into the second bed. Pat sighed as he stretched out before closing his eyes.  
“And Patroclus?”  
The boy hummed softly as he turned towards him, ignoring the strangled gasp from behind him.  
“Don’t make breakfast tomorrow. You deserve to sleep in. I’ll take care of it.”  
Patroclus let out a soft hum as he nodded, turning on his side as he whispered softly, so soft Achilles could barely hear it. “As you wish, Achilles.”

By morning, Patroclus was still in slumber, the blonde placing warm bread and egg on his bedside table with a small note before riding off. It wasn't until he came back that he saw Patroclus smiling over the bountiful dinner he’d made for both of them.

“Tie up Coran for me, he's still grazing outside.”  
“As you wish,” the boy smiled with a nod as he held out a chair for him.  
As soon as Achilles was seated and serving himself, the other was bringing the massive horse in with a call of his name.

Achilles left his food to watch the gentle boy lead the looming creature with his voice singing softly and petting his neck as they walked to the stables. He couldn't look away but the stables were yards away. And Pat would clean and feed Coran before he even thought of walking back. The food would be as cold as ice by then, and Achilles wouldn't dare eat without someone to converse with.

So, with haste, he pulled the trays and slipped them into a basket to take with him and ran after Pat, trying to not beam like a child. “Patroclus, hurry with Coran, we’re eating here. Don't worry, the rest was covered up for later.”  
He heard a hum as the freckled boy peeked his head from the stable door, Coran braying. “As you wish,” he called with a confused quirk on his face.  
Pat eased Coran to his stall and filled a bucket to clean the horse. Achilles quickly grabbed a feeding trough and flipped it over with ease before covering it with a horse blanket and adorning it with food. Pat hummed and Achilles harmonized with him, making a blush met his face.

Achilles leaned against the open door and held out a small tied cloth bag as Pat turned with a soft hum. Pat petted the horse, striding towards him as he stroked the already wet mane, orbs of water swirling around Coran making him whiny in excitement.  
“You don’t need to put Coran up, go and eat,” the boy asked, smiling as Pat took the bag cautiously. “Go to the main center, there’s a turned over trough. Go over there, leave Coran to me and eat.”  
Pat smiled, a red blush covering him entirely. “As you wish, Achilles.” A nod following him as he smiled.

The streams of water wavered before he brought it back into the bucket, the horse taking a drink from it. Achilles just laughed as a splash met his cheek, Pat giggling next to him. He watched Pat slip out and open with the bag letting out a soft gasp at the bright, candied figs inside. The boy sent a smile towards the bowed back of the golden haired Achilles and whispered to himself softly before going back to the hall and fishing out a plate from the basket next to the troph.  
Achilles tried not to watch and actually give Coran his needed attention, but he kept catching his eye as he brought a fig to his mouth with a smile of warmth. He felt his heart go up to his throat as Pat came up to him and held out the food.

“Do you want anything? I can still help if needed.”  
The fair boy was quick to shake his head, looking more or less uninterested. “I’m quite fine. Just go back to eating. I’ll be with you in no time.”  
The dark boy just smiled. “As you wish, Achilles. As you wish.”

It wasn’t long after this small meal that Achilles noticed something in Pat’s speech. Everytime he said, ‘as you wish’, he was smiling and bright, staring right into his eyes. He knew the look, the look he’d give when Pat wasn’t looking or the one he’d make at Pat’s reflection. Every time Pat said that simple little confirmation, he looked like he wanted to kiss him, like he wanted to keep him close and happy. It made him feel amazing. The boy was in love with him and he was in love with Pat.

Achilles ran up to a reading Pat when he understood this, near immediately. He wrapped a hand around his and leaned into his field of vision, making Pat drop his book. “Pat, promise me you will never leave my side and that you will never keep me from everything that hurts you.”  
“As you wish. I promise to always keep you safe and to never tell you any lies when I am in pain or in harm.”  
“Then will you love me, will you keep me happy by always staying by my side? Because I love you, Patroclus, I ask you to love me.”  
The boy was silent, his gorgeous skin brought to a full red glow by just one single command after year upon year of listening to the fair boy he loved. All he could do was beam like a child and nod. “As you wish, my king.”

Achilles pulled him close as he kissed Patroclus sweetly and brought his heart to a fiery passion, drowning in his rib cage. Only four kisses in the world had been as passionate as the one the two first shared and their love couldn’t have been consummated faster. Patroclus spoke fondly of wedding bells and lyres sending them to sleep every night while Achilles dreamed of him and Pat dancing in the center of town as the entire kingdom watched them kiss.  
But, soon it became harder to live in their small house. The money of Thetis’ inheritance grew thin and they made less and less trips to the market or rode out to town. Patroclus feared overworking their land and was cautious to grow food with his magic while Achilles tried to ensure that food was kept in supply and that his hunt was never spared. Pat reused skins and bone in simple tools and warmth for the ensuing winter and with every warry day, the two reassured each other with their hope and their love.

Unfortunately, Patroclus couldn’t ignore the nagging itch that was their debt. How could he marry his one and only when they couldn’t even bring them enough food to eat for a week. It sunk his heart when he saw a tired, wary Achilles trudge into their cottage. So, with a heavy heart he told his king that he would leave to the sea.

"I have to Achilles, I need to make sure that we can have to live we want, my love. And to get that, I’m going on the sea. I’ll be back by the winter at the worst. I won’t leave you.”  
"But what if something happens to you? What if you get hurt or worse, Patroclus?”

Dark fingers ran through golden curls as he kissed his king’s hair and smiled, melting away the fear in Achilles’ heart. “I won’t get hurt. Because I will fight as hard as I possible can to ensure that we will never die. You are my heart and I will never be killed if my love is as bright as yours.” And for Achilles, that was all the reassurance he needed. Before his love left, Achilles gave him a gift of a shining emerald that was kept in a small pouch tied around his neck.

"If this shatters, then I have died. And if this,” Achilles stated as he pulled out a hunk of tanzanite that Patroclus had found so long ago that he hadn’t even remembered it until he was staring right at it. “If this shatters, than I will know you have left me alone. And only then, will I weep for you.”

So, Patroclus went off to sea in the early summer and each day Achilles pulled out his tanzanite before he slept and when he arose and found relief in its strong weight and unaltered surface. Likewise, Patroclus’ emerald was nearly eroded by his constant palming at it. Until the day that Achilles’ scream of fear sent ripples into the ocean. Achilles’ tanzanite was nowhere to be found. His pouch had been lost while he was riding and even when he located it, the precious stone was nowhere to be found. He was shaking with terror as his heart grew cold and heavy as his mind drifted to thoughts of his love’s body bobbing in the bay. It didn’t take much longer for a letter declaring his ‘cousin’ dead at the hand of the Dread Pirate Hector to completely shatter his aching heart. He refused to eat for days, fasting for weeks on end until he realized how much he’d hurt Patroclus’ pained soul if he killed himself. So, he did the bare minimum to keep alive, he took care of his horses and rode them when he couldn’t do much else, and every night he gave half of his offerings to Patroclus’ lost soul, tears in his eyes as he prayed and prayed to be relieved of his pain.

“I shall never love again,” he whimpered still clutching the empty pouch to his chest as he laid in his bed, tears streaming as his promise brought him sorrowful peace.


	2. The Princess' Bride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooo...... I kinda love sweet, supportive Hector headcannons, where Hector and Achilles could've been as close as Achilles was with Odysseus or Ajax the Great if they weren't against each other in Troy so, I kinda sorta made up a role for him that ties into that name drop early.  
> Hope you don't mind.

The sound of thundering feet and cheering men overpowered the small countryside as villager’s ran into the Trojan King’s Court. The newly crowned princess had picked her husband from the many men of the common people. The King and Queen of Troy were near death and with the matriarchal society nearing a new ruler, she was eager to pick her husband and, to gain the trust of her soon-to-be people, she searched only from the commoner pool where, she was proud to announce, she had found the most beautiful and strong man in all of her kingdom.

With a raise of her manicured hand, she brought silence to the fiery crowd and a wave of awe met the glory of her beauty. She smirked at the quiet and let it hang a moment, waiting for even the smallest of child’s eyes to be locked right on hers. She held back a chuckle as she began her speech.

“My dearest people, what a glorious day has come this morn!” A roar followed, making her grin even further. “Yes, today is glorious, for I, after months of searching, have found the most beautiful, the most strong, and the most caring of men in our kingdom. He is not of royal blood, not even of god or giant. No, the most valiant man in all of this kingdom is, like you, the epitome of common! And I am certain you are all dying to meet him!”  
A roar rushed over the crowd and Deidamia couldn’t help but break into an icy grin. She had them all in the palm of her hand. “Without further ado, I present, my husband… Your Princess’s Bride, Achilles of Troy!”

The wave of screaming villagers deafened Achilles as he stepped forward from the walkway. His path was lined in silk and petals but every step made his heart ache and body burn. His tunic wasn’t unseemly, made with fine purple and gold silks, with a green sash to match his eyes, but he felt bare and scratched as it rubbed his skin. No one saw the pain on his face, only the beauty of his cheekbones and golden shine.  
Many called him princess for his feminine appearance but they didn’t dare meet his eye as they said so, given how they knew he could kill them all without even sweating in his beauteous image. All Achilles had done for near four years was cry and train and his body showed it. Not only did he fill out his clothing flawlessly but, he cared the sadness and woe of a thousand broken hearted lovers. He felt sickened by the marriage but couldn’t bear losing his home and his horses to remain alone. He was angered by his frailty, how easily Deidamia's wretched brother and knights threatened the last of his home, how woefully peaceful he went when forced to be wed without love after so many decades of sweet fantasies.He held back tears as the crowd yelled and threw flowers at him, his heart seizing up at the noise. He couldn't focus on what Deidamia was saying and he didn't much care.All he could think of was how broke Patroclus' lost soul must be at his weaknes, his damaged shame. He turned and nearly ran back to the entrance, the cheers bombarding his thoughts before a royal guard took him gently by the arm. 

“Are you alright your Highness?”

Achilles held back a sneer as he shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. The guard wrapped a heavy arm around his waist, leading him the opposite way from where he’d came down from his chambers. “Where are you taking me?”

“Outside. You ride when you're upset. I thought you'd appreciate a ride before your fiancée confronts you. She's been aggravated recently. I hope you aren't angry.”

The boy nodded his head, looking up at the taller guard. He was stereotypically large, muscles filling out his golden armor and the dim lanterns making orange sheen against his dark skin. Patroclus might have looked like him if his hair was darker and he'd gotten more years. He fought the urge to cry as thoughts of Patroclus flowed through him. He almost cried out as the guards hand met his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Highness.”  
“Don't call me Highness.”  
The guard blinked before simply nodding and letting go of the other. “Understood, I'm sorry.”

 

Achilles just nodded, hugging himself as they turned towards the heavy, oak door to the outside. He rode through the forest with the guard until the sun began to sink in silence. He felt a softness from the presence of anyone who didn’t seem to look at him like the object he’d been sold as. Still, he didn’t dare speak as he galloped with the guard following at a distance. Achilles slowed as he turned back to the looming palace, the guard coming closer to him.

He turned to the other, calling out to him. “Are you allowed to tell me your name? I’d like to speak with you.”  
The guard smiled as he moved to the man’s side with his own mare. “My name is Hector, son of King Priam. I’m the head of the guards, given that my brother would’ve been next in line if Deidamia wasn’t more pure of blood.”  
“You aren’t?,” Achilles questioned, his heart racing at the sound of Hector.  
“I am but, I refused the throne. I have a wife and a child, I don’t much need to  
gain control over this kingdom. My father’s lost enough to not force me into the throne.”  
Achilles was cautious with his words,“The king has lost? We haven’t been to  
war since the battle with Greece.”  
The guard nodded, their walk back purposefully slow. “My siblings have been dying off for years now. Deiphobus, Helenus, Laodice, Medesicaste, and all of my brothers, save Paris. My sisters ere somewhat better off. Some of them lived. Cassandra, was run out of the kingdom by a mob of angry men, with the court magician, as a band of witches not long after the disease took her brother.” Achilles was silent as Hector nearly cried in front of him, a complete stranger. “I miss them, it hurts especially with my sister far, far away. I know she’s still alive but… I haven’t seen her in nearly twelve years.”

Achilles just nodded, looking at him with pure remorse. “I can’t imagine your loss. Thank you for telling me.”

Hector let out a shaky sigh as he nodded, hanging his head. Achilles felt he deserved to tell him something. Hector was showing his weakness, understanding how small Achilles must feel. The guard only wanted to make him feel safe and Achilles didn’t much mind finding someone to rely on when everyone seemed to see him as weak and powerless.

“I lost someone. Someone who meant the entire world to me. They… They were my soulmate. There’s no other way to describe what they meant to me. They were my better half and they always watched over me.” Hector was staring at him, Achilles didn’t think about how warm it made him feel after been lusted at for so long. “They wanted to marry me, and I was overjoyed by the mere mention of marriage. But, my parent’s money was dwindling, and neither of us could get jobs due to our home and the threat of being recognized. We’re from Greece. It terrified them, given the war when we were children.”

Hector seemed unsurprised by this. “Was your father a fighter?”

The thin man nodded. “My father fought to keep us alive and my mother taught us everything she knew to protect us. My soulmate was older than me and she adored them. She taught them everything, and when she was killed I was left with them. And they took care of me.”  
“And you fell for them.”

Achilles let out a hum, tears building up in his eyes. “They went to sea, to get a good job where no one would hurt us. They were going to come back, and have enough to marry me, they promised me. Then, one morning, I just felt sick, like I’d been stabbed in the stomach. A week later, I received a letter from their employer that my love and a majority of his crew had been killed and robbed by the Dread Pirate Hector. I promised to never love again.”

Hector was silent as the courtyard of the castle, he let Achilles’ tears roll off his cheeks in silence, used to his siblings pain as they slowly died one by one. “I see why you carry so much sorrows. Although, you shouldn't worry, even with this unlucky hand you've been dealt. You do not need to love ever again if you are wed. And besides, you don’t have to love Deidamia to be well off and married.”  
Achilles chuckled weakly. “If I wanted to be well off, I wouldn’t be so hurt from the prospect of love. I don’t care what Deidamia offers. I will never marry her.” Achilles stared down Hector, with a glare that made him remember slicing into warriors as they tried to attack his sister, Cassandra. He had the eyes of a solider, the body of a blessed king and the sorrow of Demeter herself. "No matter what your Princess says I am, I am not her bride."  
The head guard smiled at the unwilling Prince, starting his horse by kicking her shins. "Then I'm glad to know you will still fight, Achilles of Troy." And with that, they trotted back to the castle Achilles was already planning to escape from.


	3. On a Small Ship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE UPDATE!!!!!! It's real short tho. I needed to slip my sweet chariot boi in somehow while also keeping Agamemnon out of the plot cause I hate him...A lot. This is just a little transition chapter so you know some time passes and we get back to those multiple perspectives.  
> Enjoy!

Across the sea, a small blond haired pirate was scrambling after a black clad man who was walking with a speed only formed with raw power and anger.

“Captain, please, this isn’t something you should go away to attack! It’s just a royal scuffle. We need you here, Captain!”  
“A royal scuffle is nothing but, this has much more weight. This is a scuffle with the only country that’s after us, involving a small piece that I refuse to let go.”

The blond huffed angrily as he slipped in front of the Captain, the dark man halting in his tracks. “Captain Hector, I don’t think this is a good idea. Leaving now puts us at risk. I don’t want you to go, we still need you to help us.”

The Captain took a deep breath, quick brown eyes darting to the dark, churning waves. The crew always got tense when the waves became so choppy. “Automedon, I know that you feel like you can’t run this ship without me, but I decided who’d take my place a long time ago. And I refuse to let you say that I’m what makes this ship run when you’re the one that makes the maps, and keeps us safe. You have saved my life and the entire crew on more occasions than we can count combined. Auto, you’re a savior. And I know that you can take care of them. But, if any of them doubt you, I know how to make them silent.”

Automedon just glared at him, seething slightly. “Hector, please don’t put me in charge. I want to be your second-hand, but not your successor.”

The Captain sighed, unwilling to take the excuse that Automedon had convinced himself of. “Then I won’t leave till tomorrow. I’ll let you be my second hand for one more day and then I’m taking off to get my prize and end that scuffle that can literally kill all of us. Understood?”

The blond man only nodded, still seeming worried as he stared off to the waves.  
“Just promise me you won’t leave me in command without making Agamemnon  
get off the goddamn boat. I’m sick of him, and so are you.”  
The Captain grinned, pulling his second mate close with a laugh.  
“Perfect idea, Auto, simply perfect, let’s figure out how to get that boulder off the boat without making a riot.”

The two laughed, walking back to the bow of the ship arm-in-arm to tell the rest of the crew the good news.


	4. No One Will Hear You Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE CONES A DOUBLE UPDATE CAUSE I'M ALMOST OUT OF STUFF TO PUBLISH AND GOTTA GET TO WRITING CAUSE THIS IS MY BEST RESPONSE SO FAR!!!!

Achilles was overjoyed as he galloped through the countryside of Troy completely alone. He felt free as his blond hair whipped behind him, the only sound the wind rushing through his hair and Pelones’ hooves slamming against the dirt with a rhythm of war drums. Achilles hadn’t felt so free since the day Patroclus left him and with every step closer to the edge of Troy, the faster his heart beat in joy. His spirit soared as the trees grew thicker and the loud clopping of hooves got louder from time to time. But, he did not expect to hear a singing woman in the thick forest.

Achilles slowed when he saw her, a tan skinned gypsy with bright, unruly curled hair and fiery blue eyes. She was stunning in the ways he hadn’t found most woman, in the way that she looked like she could kill him with more ease than any man he’d met. He stilled as she stood before him, smiling like a viper.

“You lost, Majesty? You look quite a lot like a lord, I haven’t seen one of you since I was a child. Might you be so kind as to take me to my home? I'm quite afraid I over estimated my knowledge of these woods.”

“I could be of help if you live toward the edge of Troy.”

The woman smiled, eyes turned fiery as she stood beside him. “Well, I'm quite lucky that I am. Shall we head off, then?” Achilles just nodded, trotting away as she followed after. “So, what place do you have, Majesty?”

The man nodded, unnoticing Briseis’ interest in him. Knowing her job, Briseis enjoyed knowing about the people she'd be forced to lead into a web of her own begrudging.

“Do you not enjoy speaking with people?” Achilles nodded again, gripping his reins. “Then, I’ll speak for us both. I'm a traveler looking for a lord like you. He's quite valiant, and if he is dead I will search for his murderer instead. I would go after him first but my brother is the last of our siblings who would willingly kill the bastard who murdered all our other brothers and sisters. Would you like to know what happened to my prestigious blood line?”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Oh, we should take this pathway. I take it from my home and it leads right to the ports. ” Achilles nodded, following her pointed finger, moving slightly faster as the girl ran with him. “My name’s Briseis, in case you were wondering. It’s nice to have somebody to protect me, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

Briseis shrugged, smiling. “Burglars, thieves, rapists, even pirates maybe.”  
“Understood.”

For a flash, Briseis felt like she was making a bad decision by taking the obviously broken man to the group she’d been dragged into. The man looked so sick and so weak just from the weariness in his eyes. If Menelaus even asked for one more delay, she’d slit his throat. It’d been nearly seven years since she’d been taken in by that imbecile and she wasn’t looking forward to another one. As they got closer to the meet up point, her eyes seemed to wander more than they had been, as if she was looking for something that neither of them could see. It made Achilles stiffen, especially when she gasped.

Two people were leaning against a tree. One was a massive, colossal man, skin darkened from the sun and hair cropped ruggedly while the other man was an inverse, with fiery red hair, pale but sun reddened skin and a frame like a scrawny teenager. Achilles found the pair slightly alarming.

“Hello, my good sir.” The smaller man’s voice was almost greasy to the ears. All three of the travelers Achilles had come across wore loose robes and threadbare leggings, slippers barely covering calloused feet. He probably never would conceive the man gesturing at him to be a prince of his home country. “I must ask you, sir, are there any towns or people nearby? You see, we are traveling performers who were separated from our group through a horrid accident, pray tell, do you know where the nearest place is?”

Achilles thought for a moment before answering, looking downwards  
“I’m afraid I don’t know which direction you would go to the closest town. There aren’t any towns in any direction for miles upon miles.”

For a second, the girl on his horse seemed to squeeze his shoulder. Later, Achilles wondered if it was an apology. The red haired man smirked, and for a moment, even the hulking figure seemed to back away.

“Then there’s no one to hear you scream.”

Achilles tensed before the large man gripped his throat and the blond pressed against his ribs, knocking him out slow and without a hint of pain.


	5. How to Start a War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the Greek's trying to start a War between Italy and Troy, Italy because of the original country being called Florence if I'm honest.

Menelaus was one of the most disgusting people to ever have the comfort of Ajax’s company. The giant didn’t much care to kill and maim people during the wars he was forced into to protect his people in Greece, but starting wars with the exuberant prince wasn’t much better. He and the Trojan orphan were indentured servants more or less but he wouldn’t mind so much if he wasn’t so awful. Currently, Menelaus was pulling off a strip of his shirt tucked in his pocket.

“What the hell are you doing, flamehead? Destroying your merchandise?”

The prince only sneered at the blond as she passed the limp boy over Ajax’s shoulder. “There is no merchandise underneath my clothing. This,” he sneered, holding up a blue, embroidered piece of cloth. “is nothing more than our ticket to the biggest boom in our country for days. This cloth is what most ever commoner with money wears in Italy. In fact, it's exactly what an Italian assassin would wear. Leaving a piece of cloth on the victim's vehicle is a common sign of defiance against an enemy government, especially when killing a to-be prince! Now, taking the prince and killing him on an island, known for pirate raids and Italian trading, we start a war with those ratty thieves begging to save their heads while those Italians are sent running right into our enemies hands. THIS is how we eradicate Troy!”

Briseis flinched as the slim man slapped the horse against its flank, making it trot off in pain. She really hated this imbecile.

“Can we please get on the boat now, I’m starting to feel weighed by the cargo.”

Menelaus turned, scowling still, the horse far from their sight. “Don’t you give me that, I will get us to the boat but not if you keep whining, you ungrateful heathen. Do you know how insulting it was to my father that I asked to take you on as an assistant for my father’s plan? It’s all up to you whether you actually remain supported with a protected and guarded country through this mess, then I would suggest following my orders!”

Briseis just stared at him, patting the taller giant as he stood next to her. “Don’t mind the child. He’s an idiot. Let’s just get to the ship.”

The two walked off as the redhead continued to seethe, Briseis ignoring his jerring in favor of talking with the large man. Ajax was a valued friend since she lost her family and it definitely didn’t make her as angry to spend sometime with him compared to other men she’d been forced to assist and work with. He needed support though, he still felt unwanted due to his father’s treatment of him and the shatters his homeland was in before he left it.

Menelaus just smacked her head as she lead the gentle giant away, making her flinch. She didn’t feel a single word of what the man said, just glared down at her feet until they reached the ship. Briseis sighed as she climbed up the mast, unraveling the sails as Menelaus kept talking and talking, Ajax tying the prince to the mast. Briseis stared up at the regal boy, his hair fluttering in the wind like a flag. His wrists were already turning red and the boy’s chest was barely creating a strain against the tight rope around his lungs. She thought for a moment he might want to be dead.

“So,” Ajax questioned. “What are we going to do with the pretty boy?”

Menelaus looked like a hearth as he turned after the near end of his speech. Briseis just tied the sail while he started raging, kept hearing every loud shout and jeer but filtered it out with ease. “You insolent giant, we’re going to kill him! If we don’t kill him, the Trojan’s will come after us because it’s obvious that we’re the kidnappers with a live prince to be. If we kill him in the hills of Italy, boom! We’re untraceable, the Italians murdered him out of rage to anger the Trojan people and thus, the war begins. Our country gets money, I pay you to go back to your village and my swordswoman gets a house in the middle of nowhere. We all win. And the prince is freed from whatever he was running away from. Seems fair to me, don’t you think, you insolent giant?”

Ajax just stared at him, confusion clear on his face. He hadn’t really liked the flame haired boy. Much less when he wanted to kill people. “Is there anyway to do this without killing him? He seemed nice.” Ajax turned to Briseis with a furrowed brow, worry clear on his face.

The redhead shook as he answered in a way that could be seen as calm only if it was said to a deaf or slow man. “No, to start a war between Troy and Italy we have to kill the pretty boy. So no, there isn’t a way to do this without killing him. I’m sorry you’re so weak stomached at this position! Maybe, I should let you go after this and get a new swordsman to take your place!”

Briseis just growled as he walked away, digging in his pouch to pull out a telescope as Ajax sighed. Ajax seemed tired, which hurt her just to see. It’s not hard to see any worry on the face of the warrior and Briseis didn’t really like seeing that. He was a kind soul who had suffered more than anyone could fathom.

She strided towards him smiling sharply as she walked. “Menelaus, he can make such a… fuss.”  
Ajax made a humming noise, smiling as he looked down to her, seeing what she wanted him to go into. “Fuss, fuss. I think he likes to scream at us.”  
Briseis jabbed at him, leaning towards him. “Probably, he means no harm.”  
“He’s very very short on… charm!”  
She turned to him grinning as she hummed. “You truly have a wonderful gift for rhyme.”  
Ajax smiled, tilting his head. “Yes, yes, some of the time.”

Menelaus turned with his spy glass jabbing at the pair leaning on a crate they used as a table. “Will both of you idiots shut up!”

“Ajax,” Briseis asked with a smirk, staring right at the flame head. “Do you know if there are rocks up ahead?”  
“If there are, we will all be dead.”

“Would you stop! No more rhymes, now I mean it!”  
“Anybody want a peanut?”

Briseis had to hold back her laugh as Menelaus screamed before going down below deck. Briseis climbed up the mast to look out at the ocean as Ajax leaned against the crate waving at her. She grinned as the sea breeze held her to the post and carried them out into the unknown.


	6. A Follower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate repeating exposition but Ajax and Bri need context.  
> Mentions of attempting suicide btw, sorry I didn't tag, but there's a line that's got them implications.

Far off, a small ship with black sails rounded the island of Troy, the single crewman steering the ship after a larger boat with a bright blonde tied to the mast. The dark figure pulled out a telescope from his pouch, leaning towards the far of ship. He only caught a glimpse of wind whipped hair, but no one had hair as purely golden as the man he was looking for.

The man was grinning as he brought the glass to his chest, feeling a warmth overtaking him at the familiar face of the figure. Just seeing the smallest glimpse of the beauty he had searched across the world for had him entranced. And as he put up the telescope, his fingers wrapped around a small gemstone around his neck.

“Don’t worry, my King. Won’t take long now.”

The man leaped off the bow and quickly turned the ship after the one carrying off his own cargo, with a grin as wide as any hunter with his eyes dead set on his prize.  
\-----  
Briseis sighed as she sat in front of the almost awake prince. Achilles looked down at the ship before staring out at the sea with a sigh.

“I was going to the ocean regardless, Briseis.”  
She smiled sadly, rubbing his knuckles. “Sorry. I don't like doing this, it's just that it's for a job. I thank you for not attacking me though.”  
Achilles shrugged, looking down at tied waist. “I’ve woken to a much worse situation. Like my life as I knew it falling apart around me in seconds. Where exactly are we going?”

“Italy. A small island owned by the country, to be exact. My boss wants to start a war with your blood. He’s a Greek, you know, it's quite common for them to start wars.”

Achilles looked up at her, confusion on his face. “Well, I can’t really disagree as a singular Greek for all of my country but, we aren’t all wanting war and destruction.” The woman’s eyes were the size of dinner plates as she understood the weight of what he said.  
“You’re a greek man engaged to the princess of Troy?”  
Achilles just nodded, head hanging low. “I doubt any of them gave a thought to see if I was an immigrant, I only ever told them that I am a descendant of Greeks. It's not something I pride myself for, but it kept me from facing treason. It's humorous in a way.”

“I can’t help but agree with you. That sounds idiotic. But anyway, I think I should warn you that my boss wants to kill you. Me and my friend, the gentle giant, would prefer not doing that but…” She bit her lip, as she spoke, trying to be as cautious as possible. “There’s no way around it. Menelaus feels we has to kill you.”

Achilles was silent for a while, staring down at the waves at the side. “I understand. I won’t feel much sorrow over someone doing the final deed  
for me. I was too cowardly to do it beforehand.”  
“Too cowardly to… To kill yourself?”

The prince only nodded, and it made the girl’s heart only sink that much further. This poor man was heartbroken to the point of accepting death without struggle. Briseis couldn’t think of anything more disheartening than that.

“I’m sorry… I’ll leave you then. Let you enjoy your last moments, I suppose.”  
Achilles looked up at her and fet a sudden burst of fear in his chest. “I’d enjoy them more if I was with you. I've come to like talking with you.”  
Briseis just chuckled, turning to stare at him. “Why’s that?”  
“Because you remind me of someone who used to be worth living for. I doubt they'd want to be alone before I die.”

Briseis sighed, nodding as she pulled the crate up to the prince, smiling. “Then, I’ll stay with you until then.”  
Ajax seated in front of the two, staring at the worn face of Achilles. “Can I talk to him too?”

Achilles only nodded, smiling as the three discussed with each other. He really did miss other people who just saw him as equal. He’d always felt like he was on some equal understanding with Patroclus and it made him happy to be close to anyone who even remotely reminded him of the boy.

Briseis didn’t seem to mind much either which made her happy to be with anyone besides the man he’d been working with for anyone besides it’d been awhile since there was an difference between the bright man. She didn’t like talking to men who were about to die by her hand. Yet he didn’t seem to fear the looming threat. Still, they talked far into the dark night, the sea turning choppy and swaying the ship wildly. Briseis let Achilles down when he was close to vomiting from the shaking. As she climbed the mast to unroll the high sail, she saw something odd behind them. Hurriedly, she jumped down from the mast and pulled the door to below deck, Menelaus in the middle of some five star meal, cooked fish and all.

“Could you come up on deck please?” She popped her head out before he came up grumbling and scowling.

“Why isn’t he tied?! We’re going to be at the island by tomorrow! Surely he wouldn't lose blood before we hit land. Do you want him to jump off?”  
Ajax merely shrugged, tilting his head away from the blonde. “He won’t but we don’t want him to be uncomfortable. He wasn’t born a prince or anything, he’s quite calm about dying.”

Menelaus just groaned as Briseis leaned over the back of the boat, eyes staring off into the sea. “You know how I’m supposed to make sure there’s nobody following us? I think someone might be following us.”

Menelaus just scoffed, pointing to the black spot Briseis was staring at. It was ridiculous for anyone to follow after some random ship with trader’s plain white sail’s up. “That ship’s too small to be of any importance. Probably just some foreign trader going off to its home.”  
“Whilst pointing it sails right at us and clearly following our path.”

Menelaus just scowled, pulling out his spy glass with a flourish, as Briseis wrapped her arms in front of her chest. She didn’t need magnified vision to see the obvious direction of its sails and how the ship was growing closer and closer to their own, to the point where she could almost see the person on it, running from sail to port, spy glass in hand. The person was so dark they almost looked like a shadow.  
“If I have to show you how that mackerel of a ship is coming towards us, you’re hallucinating. Clearly, that ship is on its way home to whatever country it belongs to. It’s nothing to worry about. See-”

Menelaus smiled knowingly as he leaned towards the ocean, glass pointed at the ship. But, then he saw the figure on the ship, he saw its black sails and the water breaking at its bow, waves chopping in the exact direction towards them. Menelaus’ smile fell and he pulled the glass to his side, “Unbelievable.”

Briseis just nodded, walking back to the still seated Achilles. She patted his shoulder as Menelaus started yelling about the possibility of anyone knowing about their “cargo”, much less some shadowman. Briseis had assumed traders initially but just the sight of the black sails coming closer reminded her of the pirate attacks she was told about as a deckhand for so many years. Achilles was watching it as it seemed to come closer.

“Is someone coming after me? I never expected anyone to really care about me.”  
“Neither did we,” Briseis agreed. “Let’s just hope they aren’t taking you back to the princess, huh.”

Achilles nodded, staring down at the high waves. He’d been so far from the gorgeous ocean after he’d heard the news of his love’s death, it still sent pain through his heart at the mere visual of the dark, foaming waves. He shivered as Briseis rubbed his shoulder.  
“Could you please not touch me? I feel tired.”

She just nodded, letting go of him as she yawned, leaning towards him as he seemed to deflate, rubbing his arms. She noticed the way his eyes darted from the peaks of the waves to his necklace, like he saw something within it inside the foaming sea.

“Do you carry something in that pouch? You keep looking at it.”

Briseis looked up at Ajax in surprise from his input. He almost never noticed people’s faces before. He always seemed to be distant given how most people in his country weren’t that emotional, but she appreciated that he was willing to talk to the stranger.

Achilles gripped it carefully, with a kind of reverence Briseis hadn’t seen since she was a child. “It used to hold a promise. Every time I felt scared about my love, I would pull out this stone he’d given me; a shard of tanzanite. One day, during a storm, my strap was torn and the stone was stolen. It was only a few days before I was told of the death of my love and it was the beginning of my depression. The pouch reminds me of him and how he’ll protect me if he were here. I suppose you could say I carry him within it.”

Achilles hadn't processed his slip but he felt worried when he saw the wide eyed face of Ajax paired with Briseis smirk. He stared up at Ajax as his mouth dropped open.  
“He sounds like a good man, goldie. You miss him much?”  
“With all my heart.”  
Briseis smiled, pushing a small curl behind his ear as she whispered with motherly affection, “Then I hope you see him when we reach the island. He’ll be elated to see you.”


	7. The Ship Approaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the hell do you make chapter titles? Anyway, just gonna warn you that I might not update next Saturday cause I still need to finish the next chapter and I want at least two chapters from now done before I upload. Hope giving you two in one is kinda helpful.

The stranger let out a grin as he locked eyes with the sleeping figure of the golden cargo. He never thought he'd see that face again, those high peaked cheekbones and flowing hair. He was just as he recalled, down to the faintest scar across his eyebrow. Save the bags under his eyes and worn face. He felt a lump in his heart as he wondered how long it had been since the golden boy smiled.

He couldn't focus on that, not when the ship was gaining speed on him. That red haired man appeared quite affronted by the sight of him. He assumed that wasn't a very good sign for him. He supposed he'd met that hurdle when he got to the island they seemed to be heading for. Italy seemed a strange place for a newly engaged prince. The stranger just ignored it, and raised his sails, leaning into the rush of sea as he ran to the golden beauty he so wanted to receive. 

For a mere moment, their eyes locked through the spyglass. The man in black prayed the beauty couldn't see him as well as he. He did love a good surprise.   
\----  
Achilles blinked with a groan at the sun as Brie tapped his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see a shimmering cliff, a tower of rubble at the top of the massive wall of mud, roots, and silvery stone. He'd never been away from his cottage and the mere sight of the stone made him gawk in awe. If his savior wasn't quick enough, it'd be nice to die on such a gorgeous island. He almost jumped at the sound of a slam. 

“Blast! That masked mongrel is still following us. He's coming after the Prince, I know it. We’ll have to fight him off until we can get you to a final resting place.”

Ajax cupped his eye and squinted the one that wasn't cupped and quickly turned with wide eyes. “Menelaus, the pirate’s almost on us. He's got a sword and a hook out as well. A blade shaped like a fish hook, not the grappling type.” 

Brie let out a hum, leaning on Ajax’s bulky figure. “A reaper? Or maybe an Egyptian blade? They're commonly curved.”  
“It looks like it's made of bone.”  
“Polynesian then.”

Menelaus groaned, smacking the giant's shoulder harshly as the ship began to slow. “Who cares what weapon the moron has! No one but a giant can pull themselves up those cliffs. The mud alone would make any heroic bastard fall on his back like a beetle!” 

Achilles squinted at the ship and then looked up at their sails as Menelaus yelled. “Briseis? How are his sails billowing when ours are barely moving?”

The crew was stiff at the blonde’s gruff inquiry. Briseis ran to the edge of the boat, watching the small boat skidding on water as the black figure leaned forward, as if he was keeping the boat aerodynamic.

“Would I be allowed to gander that witchcraft could be at play?”  
Menelaus turned blood red. “WITCHCRAFT!! You superstitious simpleton! How-”

Achilles sent a jet of water into Menelaus’ face, scowling at him as the water retracted back into the sea. “I feel she has a point.”

Ajax was wide eyed as he stared at Achilles, but Briseis was beaming. “You're a witch!!!”  
“Mage. I knew a man who was rather good at it. But, I've never seen anyone but him and his mother perform sorcery hat strong. He's making winds. I feel it's worth fearing him.”

Menelaus looked stunned for a moment, but soon his thin line of a mouth grew into a smile. “No matter. My swordsman’s the best at her craft and my giant,” Menelaus chuckled darkly, “he can kill any man within seconds, no matter how much “magic” they know.”

Achilles held back a scoff, the boat started to stutter on the sand, Briseis letting out a groan as she pulled the sails tight. Ajax hurried to get the ropes and cradle to climb the mountain. 

Menelaus smiled right at the blonde. “And that's not even mentioning the brains I've got on me. So, don't think any prince or hero is gonna save you. You're as doomed as the country you were born in.”

“Oh, don't tell me Greece is on the decline,” he stared down the flame head’s surprised gaze with his own deadly glare, “I'd hate for a war to be the only way to keep our people alive, Spartan prince. I rather miss my own little Pelones, hate to hear it's gone to the Trojans like so much else.” 

Menelaus didn't even respond, just stormed off to the bow, ordering Ajax to tie his hands again. Achilles watched the man’s furrowed form with a smile. He'd see someone with magics, someone his mother might've known. No one in the Trojan Court even speculated on the realism of magic, much less be willing to hire a user under any circumstances- much less a vanity token such as himself. The ship was a saving grace after all.


	8. Climbing the Cliffside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I'm breaking schedule but I have a hard decision. Either I skip the sword fight with Pat and Brie and the game of wits between Ajax and Pat (cause I don't feel like nothing but the dialogue would be different) or I write all that and drag this out. I know that this must be tedious to read if you know the film/book/plot and I only want to include scenes that I can make for this AU I've created (like having Achilles squirt Menelaus in the face with water cause I made him a. Witch, that kinda stuff) So, if you want to see the sword fight and giant confrontation with dialogue to fit these characters, I'd be happy to write that. But as it is, I'm most likely going to go straight to Menelaus and Pat's confrontation, because I can really change that but not really the other two. Tell me what you'd prefer and I'll try to have two chapters prepped by next Saturday with one uploaded. Thanks for your support, I'm loving how this mess is coming out.

Achilles gawked as Ajax pulled him, Briseis, and Menelaus up the titanic cliff with less than a rope and a hook. He remembered when Pat tried to pull a sizeable bolder up into the sky to practice his enchantments. How he just tethered the tooth of a mountain to a tree and had it floating like a falcon. Achilles didn't much like getting smacked against Ajax’s massive back as he climbed up the cliffs though. 

He closed his eyes and let the situation sink in that he was either going to die or be kidnapped by a mage. Who knew why the gods had chosen this endless tragedy of a life for him, although he supposed the gods found his suffering comedic in all their passive ignorance. It hurt to think of not seeing Patroclus in the afterlife. Briseis would at the very least rest his soul, but his love was lost to sea. Maybe he should ask to be left there too. To let his soul drift until he met his love's remains. Then they could happy. 

“For fuck’s sake, how did he get here?!”

Achilles was jarred by the yell coming from the man squirming on Ajax’s stomach angrily. Briseis let out a short chortle through nose before her and Achilles looked down to see the black ship being dragged on the shore by the waves as a figure bolted to the cliff side. They were so high up that Achilles could barely tell where his garments started and his skin was coming out of them. His head was even covered with a black bandana. Achilles wondered how the man wasn't suffocating in the heat. 

The man in black was fast to assess that the ropes dangling from the group high above him could hold him along with them and started digging his feet into the rocky cliff side, staring into Achilles’ wide eyes as his hands pulled on his back from the rope. They were nearly at the top but the black man’s fiery brown eyes were practically glowing, demanding attention even as blonde curls obscured him before the level ground of the cliff’s drop met him. The ropes holding him up were cut and he was standing with Briseis’ hand on his shoulder, quick to shake the fuzziness of his tied limbs so he could peer down at the figure head on.

He was climbing with speed man by itself couldn't have. He was grinning with the curved blade’s handle in his teeth, rope tied around his waist as he found grips and footholds, pulling himself with only his hands. He was practically scurrying, like a rat. Achilles let out a yelp as he was yanked back, bound hands in Briseis’ grip.

“Ajax, Achy needs a ride. I'll hold down the fort.” She patted the blonde’s back as he was thrown over the giant’s shoulder with a huff. She was smiling reassuringly. “Won't be long now. I hope you get to see your boy.” 

Achilles squirmed to met her eyes. “Briseis. Promise to throw my body in the sea. When I die, promise you'll let me rest in the sea with him.” Ajax was stiff under him, but Briseis’ eyes oozed tenderness as she cupped his face, smiling with such sorrow. 

“Of course. You'll see him soon.” She kissed his forehead lightly, ignoring the rigidness of his shoulders. “Be safe until you're ready. I'll buy you time or let your savior take you away. Okay?”

Achilles nodded and Briseis gave Ajax a nod as he stood and walked away. Brie sighed and turned, assuming her ‘post’ and slumping as she hears the hurried, manic whispers of Menelaus fade away. What shit had that man seen and why did he look like no one had done something like that for him until she promised to dump his body in the fucking ocean. How much did he hurt? She didn't want to dwell, and pulled out her brother’s silvery saber as she prepped herself for the intruder to soon pull himself over the cliff.


	9. The March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some good ol' Achilles perspective cause I finally dragged myself out of my writing/creative/overweighted by being a DM for the first time with no guidelines depressive pit of procrastination. Like one week before school starts. Next chapter will be longer and focus on Pat.

Achilles tried not to squirm on Ajax's back too much but he craned his neck as he watched Briseis lean over the cliff, sword lax at her side. He would prefer she be there if he died. He had forgotten how easily he used to make connections to people. Course the majority of his friends outside of his love only approached him for his beauty. Still, he used to like new people. He used to be sociable. He wondered how much of him died with Patroclus. It weighed his heart. He almost didn't notice that Menelaus was speaking to Ajax, conniving most likely. Ajax was talking with panic though, something he hadn't really thought he'd hear from such a massive man. He turned to see confusion on his brow, but his voice was so deep he couldn't quite bring words from it.

Understanding he was stranded with no real way out of his accepted situation, he leaned his chin on his hand and let the seat of the bulking giant provide some form of relief. He turned to Ajax’s ear and saw Menelaus fiddling with a map and groaning. 

“Where is he going? Does he want me to die in a scenic place?”  
He felt Ajax's laugh rumble through him. “No, no. He just thinks we should go further to get away from the man in black. All the Trojans need to find is some piece of you and your gold to show it's an act of war. That's what he said at least.”  
Achilles nodded at that, thinking quietly as the terrain went from rocky gravel to towering boulders with rough grass. “You won't take my pouch will you?”  
“Oh no,” Ajax shook his head, smile waiting from his face. “You need that for Elysium.”  
Achilles almost laughed, only a soft huff coming from him. “Elysium? Who have I saved to gain such honor when I am nothing but a coward in Trojan garb.”  
Ajax shrugged, lifting Achilles’ stomach. “I suppose the entirety of Troy. You're a trickster, heartbroken as you are.” Achilles let out a chuckle. “Gods like good tricksters.”  
“They don't like cowards who accept their death as slaves.”  
Ajax lifted him again. “The gods like heroes who give them good tragedies too.”  
“Well, I'm not going to Elysium for a sob story. I don't even think I'd enjoy it, I'd just be happy to stay in the ocean and rot with my lover around me. That's all I want.”  
Ajax halted and, for a moment, Achilles thought it was time. He was picked up and sat on a rock, Menelaus far off and yelling at Ajax. “I hope the gods give you want you need. You have to follow him now. He saw the man in black coming. I'll be okay, but I hope you will be too.”

Achilles began to nod and felt something warm and wet hit his hand. He saw a teardrop, sparkling on his skin. He wiped at his face stilling his shaking body. He couldn't go crying, he was stronger than that. He had to be. Patroclus didn't weep for himself, why should he have such petty selfishness without him?

“I'm sorry. I'll be alright. I'm alright.”

Ajax nodded, petting his head before hugging him so tight Achilles lost his breath. He said nothing as he let the prince go, quickly having a blindfold tied around his eyes and his wrists tightened. 

“May the gods smile upon you.”

Achilles smiled as he felt hands push his back, arm held in a grip that could crush stone. And so the boy of gold was lead to his death with a smile on his face and tears streaming from his eyes.


	10. Challenge of Wits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I've nit been writing this but I've had it for a while so, yeah.

The Dread Pirate Hector shook dust off his shoulder as he stepped over the collapsed body of the giant. He didn’t put up much of a fight for his side and boulders aimed at his head weren’t anything new to him.

“You did well, but I doubt you had any heart in that.” He looked down and saw boot tracks along with a long snaking line besides it. “The prince is back on the ground then.” He readjusted his mask, pulling it down to his cheek bones before grabbing back his sword from where he’d left it for his fight of hands. He ran alongside the tracks, hoping to get to the boy before it was too late.

It didn’t take him long to find the clearing that the kidnapper’s had tried to hide by running through the woods. He could see the redhead seated with a knife against Achilles’ throat, stone before him like a table. Someone was either prepared for surrender or an ambush. He smiled as he strode to the wiry man, watching how he stiffened and tightened his grip on the golden man’s shoulder.

“So, you are the last obstacle for me? I’m certain that a man with an army wouldn’t put two fighters in the way of himself. You do know how to plan battle, don’t you?”

The redhead let out a bark of laughter, looking away from Hector as his eyes filled with mirth. The boy was leaning into himself, blinded face bowed to his feet. The poor thing, he was trying to hide himself away from Hector. He wondered if he’d be like that once he killed the insolent flame head.

“What nonsense, you think I could ever be imbecilic enough to let you take down my men before I kill the prince? No, I’m keeping him alive so I can keep you from killing me to capture him and ensuring you listen. Now I know this boy won’t be worthless once he’s dead, so why don’t we cut a deal, how about I kill him and leave you the body to sell and barter with? Therefore I get my deed done and you get a prize to sell after?”

Hector chuckled seating himself before the redhead. “I think not. In fact, I think it would be easier for both of us if you gave me that boy alive. I’m more than aware of his arrangement and what you believe you can gain from his death but, frankly, I have no stakes in either his body being pinned to me or him being killed by a cowardly child.”

Menelaus turned and whispered something in Achilles’ ear. Hector sneered as he saw the redhead press the blade into the broken boy’s collar, leaving a slice in his gold skin. The redhead growled through a sneer before drawing his sword away from the golden boy and placing it away from him, burying it to the side of the rock between him and Hector. When he turned back to Hector he was grinning like a sly fox.  
“How about a game of wits? I can assure you I do not have the skill of my swordsman nor the brute of my giant, but I am the one who kidnapped the prince and created this whole operation. In fact, I am one of the most intellectually renowned minds in Sparta. Wouldn’t a battle of intellects over this miserable little ornament be a better alternative to a spar for him?”

Hector couldn't help his smirk. “You, an intellect of Sparta? Are all of the intelligent people from your city hot headed children? Oh, please tell me you are an outlier to your populous. It’d be a shame if you were an accurate representation of Agamemnon's proud people, he is so quick to booster you after all, foolish Menelaus.”

Menelaus sneered, pulling the prince’s hair to brandish his neck. “You leave my people out of this or I’ll kill him with or without a game. You don’t get to ridicule me without repercussions. I have to pretty boy don’t I? So therefore, I control his fate until my ownership is changed! I believe that makes me a competitor you have to bet to get to him. So if you’re done, I’ll place my bets. If I win, I get to kill the thing I own. If you win, what do you get?”

Hector sat before the crouched Menelaus, crossing his arms. “I get the boy and your death. You’re worker bees don’t seem too happy with you and I doubt you’d be much missed.”

The flame head bunched up his fist. “You don’t know my father. And he hates your kind already, your work and your kind. Don’t think my death will give you anything but pain.”

“Well, I have been in pain for almost my entire life. I highly doubt your father can give me much more grief.”

Menelaus growled, but took his satchel from his shoulder as he glared at the man. Hector wasn’t focusing on him, he was staring at the pretty boy. I wondered if he knew the prince, he was going to die for him. It was idiotic to, he wasn’t even that pretty. The man was probably only attracted to pretty boys like the blonde. The sea must’ve bogged down his brain.

“Then if you’re willing to do this, then let’s play the game.” Menelaus laid a decanter of wine onto the rock the prince was seated upon. “Had anything in mind?”

The pirate smirked as he slowly pulled a vial of white powder from his sleeve. “Have you heard of this? It’s called Iocane powder. It’s tasteless, odorless, and leaves no trace of color. And it is very, very poisonous.” He handed the man the vial, smiling as he watched him waft the smell and stare at it. “If you are willing and have two glasses, I would like to propose a game of chance. I pour the powder in one glass, the other remains unpoisoned. I arrange the glasses and you, my challenge of wit, will decide which is poison and which is clean. We drink, and you either get the added benefit of my death or I get to kill you without any physical strain.”

Menelaus handed the powder back and was fast to take out two small glass from his satchel. “Well if it gives me another gift, I’d be happy to lead you to your death.”

Hector chuckled, taking the glasses with his fingers in one hand, plucking the vial with his other fingers. He turns around, cradling the cups to his stomach to keep them away from the flame heads view. He tucked the powder into his sleeve after he had poisoned a cup and turned back with two chalices in hand.

“Then let us play, flame prince.”


	11. As You Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I’m shocked this is getting an kudos at all. I kinda dropped this for a while but I did clean up this chapter enough for publishing so, let’s hope we can get to the really fun shit soon!

Achilles was tense as he heard the chortle of Menelaus beside him. He couldn’t see anything but the bright blue from the blindfold and his throat stung from the chill of the blade. He couldn't place why the sly voice warmed him, it had no resemblance of any happy memories. Yet the voice sent a bright sting through his chest, the poison of love.

He only heard the horrid laughter silence as the body thumped. He was lifted to his feet and stumbled as a stocky arm wrapped around his stomach, a wandering hand on his shoulder. He shuddered as the blindfold was ripped from his eyes. The light made his head spin, but the bright brown eyes made his heart flutter. Patroclus used to give him that look. 

“My my, golden prince. You feeling any better?”  
“How did you kill him? Didn’t he pick the right glass?”

The pirate just grinned, untying the cloth around Achilles’ wrists as he leaned against Achilles. 

“They were both poisoned. When you have thousands of people trying to murder you, you take time to gain immunity to the things that can easily kill you.”

Achilles forgot the peace he felt as he heard the jovial voice. Was he discussing murder or a nice day in the forest? He tried to hide his shudder as the pirate lead him by his wrist deeper into the forest. 

“Best get a move on before the knight or her friend wake up.”  
“They're alive!”

The pirate barked a laugh as he brought Achilles stumbling into his chest. He fought not to grimace as a sly finger brushed his cheek.

“I don't kill those who don't deserve it. It was your life or his. I doubt anyone would match your worth. Regardless, we should get farther into the woods, away from any easy tracking. Your princess and her brother in law are sure to come after you, and we can't have that.”

Achilles grunted as he was yanked along by the masked figure, tripping over his feet as he was dragged by his wrist. He hugged himself tight as he realized he was still in shambled clothes and being dragged through the dirt. 

“I’m happy that you kept me from getting mutilated but, I have little to live for ‘sides being thrown to the sea.”

The pirate huffed, hugging him tight to his shoulder before slowly going down a dirt slope. “While I can respect the want to die due to unfair circumstance, I highly doubt you could get that wish, given I would rather keep you than let you deal with this mess of political sabotage. I highly doubt the Trojans would keep you past the wedding night. Oh, and undoubtedly once they figure out you’re greek, I highly doubt you’ll be kept around regardless of what happens to you. So, I’m going to keep you away and get you to some place better.”

Achilles flipped his sweat drenched hair from his eyes, snarling as the pirate kept forcing him forward. “But I don’t want a better place.” Achilles ripped his hand away and managed for a second, almost falling back, before the pirate took his arm. “I just want to die and be with my only love. There is nothing I want more than joining him in death.”

The pirate blinked at him for a second, staring deep into Achilles’ eyes. For a moment, Achilles wondered how familiar this all seemed, like an argument he’d had as a child. He broke from his memory as the pirate chuckled darkly, dropping Achilles before crouching over his chest, keeping him on the ground.

“Joining him in death? What a touching thought. You know, I’m more than certain I’ve met this love, a farmhand on the sea to try and pay for his marriage and home.” Achilles trembled as he watched the pirate’s hand worm under his shirt to pull out a small pouch. “He treasured this more than anything. He was one of the few to live for longer than a couple years, lived the longest of his crew for certain. He was a good man, good soul, wonderous heart. The only thing was, he fought on our side and wasn’t strong enough. He vowed allegiance to me and he got so close to being a great pirate. And then he got cocky, worked himself to make sure he could come home with enough to give you a kingdom. He always thought he was able to keep up, no matter how hard it was for him. Still, he made me promise him something.” The pirate took the empty pouch between his fingers, letting out a soft sigh.

“He told me that he could only die if we found you and kept you from following him. Letting you die from a political war is not going to let his soul rest. If you want to die, you’ll find a way, I’m certain, but I won’t lose you before I can make up my debts to him. Now get up, we don’t have much time.”

Achilles struggled to his feet, stumbling after the dark man as he carried him towards a dark forest. He didn’t even feel the tears. He couldn’t even feel his own body, only the writhing agony within him. All he felt was anger. 

“What did they do to my Patroclus? Why didn’t you protect him? You’re Hector are you not.”  
The pirate’s smirk was more severe than ever has he pulled Achilles to his hip with a yank. Achilles thought the force would knock him down the steep hill but he remained solid under him. The pirate clutched his hair in between his dark fingers and for a flash Achilles thought of warm nights in a small cottage, sharing his bed with his love. He felt the tears spill and his jaw quiver.

“Fair prince, I am that pirate you so despise. I didn’t leave Patroclus to die, he killed himself. And they drive a sword through Patroclus’ heart. He was gone before he could even get a hit. I made sure his murder would never be recognized by Zeus himself. I’m sorry, Achilles. You’re Patroclus is no more.”

Achilles wanted to scream. All of the smiles he had dreamt of, the ghosts of hands and lips. He was trembling as Hector drowned on and on but he couldn’t hear anything. All he could see was Patroclus blood on a blade he never should’ve seen. He saw his second half staying up to the point of falling over as he tried to figure how much money he could save for their wedding alone. He thought of how it must’ve been like to watch Patroclus’ body fall into the water in the battle. 

Why did Patroclus go? Achilles could’ve done so much more. Why didn’t he try to convince him to stay home? Achilles screamed, so loud he knew Briseis and Ajax would her. So loud Troy would hear. Loud enough for Hades himself to hear, so he could show the Fates his torture. His throat gave out on him and he began to writhe in Hector’s arms. The pirate tried to clutch him close but that made him angrier. His body began jabbing at him, not even processing how little it hit him. 

And then he put all his force into himself as he targeted Hector’s stomach with a roar. The body tumbled down the hill with a grunt. His throat throbbed, falling back as he screwed his eyes tight. He didn’t say a word and for a second, he felt nothing. Until he heard a soft and almost haunting call descending the steep hill.

“As you wish.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aye, I know this took so long. I've had like all summer but I've been too apathetic to do like anything. So, this chapter is really short and I'm going to stick with Achilles' perspective afterward, cause if you don't know the barebones of Princess Bride some stuff happens to Wesley and I'm deviating a bit cause making Patroclus a witch would feel pointless if I didn't use it. Don't worry, I'm not dropping the conflict in like Act two, I'm just shifting the events a lot cause I think it'll be more fun to write that way. Hope you don't mind these short chapters, I'm just struggling with focusing on these since I have original stuff I feel like I should focus more on.

Patroclus splayed himself out at the far bottom of the hill as he gained his breath. He should’ve expected the push. More so, he should’ve known Achilles would be utterly destroyed by his ‘death’. His old life had died once Hector fell to the blade, but it did hurt to lie to his prince. He shouldn’t have called to him. Achilles likely would’ve lived out of stubbornness, seeing as Patroclus would’ve allowed him to die. Now, in all likelihood, Achilles’ heart would blacken from such betrayal and never revive. He screwed his eyes shut as he was jerked by the scruff of his cloak to his feet.

What he didn’t expect was the crushing hold and fiery lips that trapped him. Patroclus was quivering in shock from the attack, knees bowing under him, the only support he had were the strong hands on his waist. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or Achilles was. They could barely breathe in their shared constraining arms. 

       “All of those years. All those nights I wept and wept. You never left me, philtatos. You were just lost, love, lost for so long.”

    Patroclus couldn’t help his soft chuckle. The air seemed almost too sweet to breathe. 

       “I’m sorry, Prince, it was the best I could do. I lost all of myself when the captain died. I wanted to come back for you, I needed to, but every chance I had some country or rival pirate would come for my head and drive me away. I’m so sorry, my love. Gods above, how sorrowful you’ve become. I would rather face Tartarus itself than know you died only to follow me.”

     Achilles sighed, gripping his other half to his chest. “I swear I would strangle Hector for taking you. I couldn’t breathe when you vanished. Not even my tears gave me an ounce of feeling.”

       “Then weep as much as you can now. If we don’t get out of here and hide, we won’t be able to bask in each other for long. We need to go, my prince, we have to get to my ship before the Queen even docks.”

   Achilles nodded, climbing to his feet with more grace and solidity than he’d felt in years. The hand in his own was dark and solid and warm. Nothing could feel this warm ‘sides laying in bed with him once more. He gave his love a soft squeeze and Patroclus grinned. For a second, it was home. They ran, through thickets and thorns that Achilles took as petals on his thighs. By the time the saw the light shimmer off the waves, Achilles was laughing, filling the island with his uncapped joy. Patroclus wished he could focus on the smile of his love, he wished the world never existed to save his love. But afar, he could see the billowing striped sails.

“Achilles, do you know how to sail still?”

“Course… I kept myself from going but I taught myself in case you returned.”

Patroclus nodded, slipping down the hill. He bit his lip as his head buzzed in thought. They had a few minutes given how strong the winds were, even without Pat’s magic, and given the fact that Achilles would be gone from the island, the ship would be quick to guess his location, given both the merchant ship and his own were docked side by side. 

“You will not like this, philtatos, but I have a necessary plan.”

Achilles braced himself, squeezing Pat’s hand tightly. “If you plan to leave me I will take you kicking and screaming. You’re all I have, Patroclus.”

The pirate shook his curls, burying his smile. “No, not leaving you. We should take separate ships. We can go in opposite directions, one towards them, the other towards Italy. Let Troy go to war with them, let them see you as dead. We’ll have them think I, a cowardice, ran back to Troy as you, one of the Italian assassins, are taking the body to show to your king. Please, Achilles, it will work. They’ll chase you while I follow and even if they dock with you, I can kill any scout that wench can send. Even better, I can get you once they dock, we can loop back to each other.”

Achilles was trembling. “No, no we can’t. I’ll lose you! I can’t lose you again. I’m tired of losing you to the seas. Can’t you enchant the sail, or perhaps leave a duplicate?”

Patroclus shook his head. “I’d need a surrogate for you and my magic wouldn’t fool them. We have to separate. You head to Troy, try and find a safe hiding place. I know a good man in the palace, one who heard of you many times. And there’s a mage, Odysseus. A great man of wise and wit. You’ll be safe. And I will find you.”

Patroclus pulled a small charm from his pocket. It was a warm pink flower with white on the bottom, made of half circles in a spiral, a cluster in the center Achilles blinked at it, face contorting. Patroclus bewitched the sails with his a flick of his wrists and the wind caught them.

“Take my ship. At the very least I need to end the ship off with me on it. Otherwise, it will drift and they’ll think it’s just a wreck or something. They need to lose interest in you. To forget your part in their war. I’m sorry, my prince but I require you to go. Now preferably.”

Achilles shook his head, taking Patroclus by the arm as he tried to run back to the woods, wanting to hide, but his love refused to move. 

“Please my Prince. I need you to do this. I know it hurts, but it’s the only way to be free. Please.” Patroclus’ smile was so warm, it hurt that it stabbed into Achilles’ heart so viciously. “It’ll be alright, just please trust me.”

Achilles leaned against Patroclus as he let out a sob. Patroclus held him close as he lifted the two off the ground. He knew Achilles wasn’t above trying to rush him so he could run off with him. So he closed his eyes as he saw the teary eyes look up to him as he gently dropped Achilles off on the small boat. His head was shaking and he tried to jump at the floating witch, despite the fact Patroclus was far above him. He gave him a sad smile as Achilles screamed his name. 

“Go to Troy. They won’t see you, I promise. It’s okay, I’ll get back to you. I love you, my Prince. And love never leaves us.” 

Achilles let out a roar as Patroclus sent a gale to push him into the seas, propelling Achilles forwards and the pirate to his now stolen ship. The waves pushed against the boat, dragging it farther away. Patroclus could only hope the Prince wouldn’t jump, given how selfless he knew him to be. Still, as he let the sail push him towards the fleet of purple and golden sails, he watched as Achilles was taken farther away. By the time the ship was hooked by the massive ship leading the fleet, he let himself be pulled in, slipping below deck and casting a breathing charm as he waited for the Trojans to burn the empty boat. At least he could reach Achilles faster this way. He closed his eyes and focused himself into being transparent as he heard the heavy boots of the Trojan army storm the ship. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sidebar: Some character relations are based off GabetheBabe's fics so you should check him ouuuuuuuuuut. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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